As the Vulcans rebuild their lives on Pomonus, danger in the form of a Borg cube approaches. Uhura faces her demons, Spock and Jim hold fast to each other, and redemption is proven possible in more ways than one. #3 in "First Contact" series.

A/N:
Credit to sexy-jess for providing one huge plot point for this, which
was really the main inspiration. This pretty much wouldn't exist
without her. :D

Thanks
for all your input, comments, and reviews—you are all awesome—I
hope you like this! I'll try to continue being speedy in my updates
but I just started summer semester so it might be a bit slower. :(

Note
on the Borg: "As of 1484
they were reported as controlling only a handful of systems
in the Delta
Quadrant, but by 2373
they had assimilated thousands of worlds. In addition to this
stronghold in the Delta Quadrant, the Borg also dispatched vessels
throughout the galaxy via transwarp
conduits." –Memory
Alpha

So,
I know that they weren't really aware of the Borg in Kirk and
Spock's day (we're in 2285/2286 here) even though they were
active, but it's a new timeline so I claim my right to play around
a little. :)

1.

xxxxx

"Are
you sure about this?" Kirk turned to his first officer. Their roles
had been temporarily switched; Spock held the controls while Kirk sat
in the co-pilot's seat. "I mean, this isn't exactly—well,
logical."

Bemused,
Spock raised an eyebrow. "Jim, are you—nervous?"

"No,"
he lied, smoothing out his Starfleet uniform. "No, not at all."

The
pair were on a shuttle to Pomonus, the planet on which Spock's
elder self had chosen to place the Vulcan colony. Nine thousand
Vulcan survivors traveled with them—not including Synok and his
supporters, who would remain on Earth until they stood trial by the
Federation for their crimes against the Chenari. Officially, Kirk and
Spock were here to bring these Vulcan survivors to their new planet.
Unofficially, Spock had a compulsion to bring Jim home with him. He
wanted to share what was left of Vulcan society with his partner. And
though it was, as Kirk had said, illogical, Spock wanted to introduce
him to his father. He knew that if there was one Vulcan who would
understand his attraction to a human, it would be his father.

As
they cut through the Pomonian atmosphere, a world converse to Kirk's
expectations materialized outside his window. He knew Vulcan had been
a desert, largely arid and hot. But Pomona's terrain rolled out
before him like an alien jungle; rolling hills, splashes of colorful
flora, canopies of trees with leaves as green as Vulcan blood. As
they neared the surface, he understood. It was all growing from a
fine sand, so fine that it looked like piles of sifted brown flour.
Upon stepping out of the ship, he nearly faceplanted into the ground;
the pliable surface would take some time to get used to, for sure.

Three
Vulcan elders came forth to greet them. Spock raised his hand in the
Vulcan salute. "Tynak. We come to serve," he stated, the standard
Vulcan diplomatic greeting.

Spock
and Kirk wordlessly followed the elders into a large structure built
of soft-hued sandstone. Spock lifted his eyes; above the door, the
phrase Logic is the cement of our civilization, with which we
ascend from chaos, using reason as our guide was engraved on the
arch.

As
they entered the hall, Spock turned to Kirk. "This is the temporary
meeting place of the Vulcan Council," he explained, and took a seat
in one of the low-backed chairs. Kirk sat beside him.

Tynak,
who was obviously the leader, fixed his eyes on Spock. "We must
discuss assimilation."

"Perhaps
'integration' would be a better term?" suggested Spock.

Tynak
paused. "Yes. Integration. You are aware that the Vulcan colony is
quite different from the world to which we were acclimated. The
Vulcans with you have obviously been living in a different culture
for months. You have interacted with them; do you foresee any
problems?"

"No.
Synok and those who supported him are not with us. The Vulcans on the
shuttle only wish to return to their people and assist in rebuilding
our lives."

Tynak
inclined his head. "Synok remained on Earth to stand trial before
the Federation?"

Tynak
raised an eyebrow, and Kirk shuddered, privately creeped out by the
likeness of Vulcan facial expressions. He'd seen that same look
plenty of times from Spock, especially when he suggested trying
something new in the bedroom. Spock usually trusted him, though, so
he was hoping Tynak would do the same.

"And
what reasons do you have to expect they are not?"

"Well,
they don't have the coordinates, for one," Kirk replied. "They
have no idea where you are. They don't even have the name of the
planet. And outside Chenar, we offered to give him coordinates if
he'd take his ship out of the quadrant. No such luck. I don't
think he wants anything to do with you guys."

Beside
Kirk, Spock's lips twitched. He was perfectly aware that no Vulcan
elder had heard such casual talk in their presence before.

Tynak
sat stiffly, even for a Vulcan. "Are they aware of the new—mating
requirements?"

Not
one of you can just come out and say it, can you? Kirk laughed
inwardly.

"Yes.
I have informed them of the responsibility to choose a mate. Some
have already done so. I have also informed them of the injection to
induce pon farr."

Every
member of the Vulcan Council looked taken aback, as though Spock had
just divulged a great secret in front of a stranger. Though Spock
immediately realized his faux pas, he decided it would be best
not to dig himself a deeper hole by explaining how his Captain knew
about that particular bit of Vulcan physiology.

"Very
well," Tynak said finally. "Bring them out of the ship and we
will begin to issue domiciles."

xx

"Sanik
and T'Peil, your temporary residence will be with—" He looked
at the list in surprise. "With Stonn and T'Pring."

T'Pring,
whose belly swelled with child, bowed slightly. "Spock. I had hoped
you would bring your mate. I must admit my curiosity to meet her."

"The
Captain?" A note of surprise permeated her voice. "A Human man?
Spock, that is—"

"Most
illogical," Spock said, completing her thought. "You would not
say so, T'Pring, if you knew him as I know him."

She
ignored this. "I should not be surprised at your irrational
decision. After all, you chose Starfleet over the Vulcan Science
Academy."

"Without
Starfleet," Spock said levelly, "you would not be living here
today." Coldly, he turned his back on her and returned to giving
housing assignments.

xx

Later
that night, Spock and Kirk arrived at Sarek's modest home, a square
building with little regard to decoration or flair. It was far from
the home of Spock's childhood, a sprawling villa with a terrace
overlooking a beautiful desert canyon, on which he and his father
often sat playing Kal-toh. He felt a stab of longing at the memory.

"I
must admit, Spock," Sarek said, as they sat down to dinner in the
small kitchen, "I was unsure when you turned down admission to the
Vulcan Science Academy in favor of Starfleet."

Again?
Must we continue to revisit this decision in every conversation?
Spock picked up his fork and stabbed a piece of fruit which
resembled a cantaloupe in color, but a strawberry in size.

"I
am impressed, however, with what you have accomplished while there."

He
inclined his head. "Thank you."

Sarek
raised an eyebrow at Kirk, who was busy examining a pink-colored
bean. Feeling the gaze upon him, he looked up.

"What
are you doing?" demanded Sarek.

Kirk
was confused. "Eating."

Spock's
lips twitched. "Vulcans do not handle food with their fingertips."

It
was at this moment that Kirk realized Vulcans really weren't too
different from humans, at least in one respect. He sensed a very real
tension in the room.

"She
informed me that you have brought your mate to Pomonus." He turned
to Kirk.

Kirk
didn't know exactly what he was supposed to say at this point, so
he did what he would have done in his earlier days when a girl
brought up the topic of commitment over dinner—stuffed his face
full of food. Luckily, he had Spock to speak up in his place.

"Yes,"
Spock said calmly. "I assume that she informed you whom I have
chosen, since you are glaring at Jim."

Sarek
turned to his son in surprise. "Do not mistake this for anger,
Spock. Your decision in choosing a mate is most illogical."

Spock
stared his father down. "You told me," he said levelly, "that
you married my mother because you loved her. Now you chastise me for
making what amounts to the same choice?"

"That
was in another time." Sarek's voice was vaguely wistful. "A
time when reproduction was not a necessity for every Vulcan."

"You
want me to choose a female in order to mate."

"Yes.
That is my wish. That is the logical choice, Spock. Do not forget
T'Plana-Hath's wisdom. 'Logic is the cement of our
civilization—'"

Spock
stood up, his eyes ablaze. "I have seen many civilizations now,
Father. Though we may be intellectually superior to most, and at
peace with our neighbors, the suppression of our emotions is harming
us."

"Harming
us?"

"If
you felt for my mother what I feel for Jim, you understand me when I
say that logic must take emotion into account."

"I
have lived for over a century, Spock. Do not presume to know more—"

"You
have no human experience," Spock interrupted stiffly, "and thus
it is logical to presume that you will never understand the human
emotions which aided my decision. This is acceptable to me, so long
as you agree to respect my choice."

Sarek
stared back at him.

"I
see. Good night, Father."

Kirk
quickly rose, following him out. "I'm sorry," he said
instantly, not knowing what else to say.

"I
have never understood the human predilection to apologize for actions
that are not their fault."

He
shrugged. "Just our nature, I guess."

Spock
inclined his head. "My mother," he mused, "always used to tell
me that she would be proud of me no matter what course of action I
chose."

He
draped an arm around Spock's shoulders. "I know you miss her. I'm
sorry. I mean—I'm— well, I don't know any other way to say
it."

"I
appreciate your concern. But let us refrain from speaking of such
things. I have been anxious to show you this."

He
led Kirk into the thick forest. Trees towered above them. In the
shade, it actually felt warmer; dense foliage trapped heat under the
thick leaves. Fountains of fuchsias spilled from the knotted canopy
of tree branches, specks of firefly-like light at their hearts,
casting a soft golden light over the forest. Teal blooms, roselike in
appearance, veined the smooth, twisted black trunks of the trees. But
where moss and grass would grow in Earth's forests, where cool soil
would give life, the fine brown Pomonian sand covered the forest
floor.

They
sat down against the the wide trunk of a tree; Kirk pinched a teal
bloom from a vine with his fingertips. "The older you—he picked a
hell of a place," Kirk said, pulling off his boots and socks. He
dug his toes into the sand. "For the colony, I mean. It's really
nice here."

"I
am certain aesthetics were the least of his concerns in selecting a
planet."

"Are
you sure? There's got to be plenty of plain desert planets that
looked more like Vulcan. I mean—not that—I'm sure Vulcan was
nice—" Damn it.

Spock
put a hand on his arm. "I admit, after visiting other planets, I
found that I preferred Earth to Vulcan with regard to its flora and
fauna. This planet seems to be the perfect balance between the
climate of Vulcan and the beauty of Earth."

"Just
like you, then. The best of both worlds."

Surprised,
Spock turned to him, a small smile on his lips. "You know, Jim, you
can be very endearing."

Embarrassed,
he lifted his shoulders in a nonchalant shrug. "I try."

"No.
That is precisely what I find endearing about you. You do not try."
He let his fingertips brush the back of Kirk's hand, and he
shivered.

"Why
is that so amazing?" Kirk demanded.

Spock
just blinked. "That is how Vulcans kiss. Through our fingers."

"Through
your—" He lost his breath for a moment. Flashbacks flooded his
mind; that first long moment on the original Enterprise, when
he and Spock stood quietly in the center of his cabin, fingers
touching, foreheads together. He knew it had felt intimate—but he
hadn't guessed it was a kiss. "Why did it take so long for
me to figure this out?"

His
lips twitched. "You did not figure it out. I told you."

Kirk
stared up at the flickering fuchsias while Spock slowly traced
patterns on his open palm. Vulcan letters, perhaps, staking a secret
claim to Kirk's body and soul. Who knew? Who cared? It was bliss,
here in this sand-dune jungle with his Vulcan lover, the flowers
dancing in the evening breeze, an insect serenade in cello-like
tones.

"Teach
me," Kirk said suddenly.

Spock
raised an eyebrow.

"To
kiss like Vulcans do. You can kiss like a human." And you're
damn good at it, too. "I want to learn the right way—"

Wordlessly,
Spock aligned his fingertips with Kirk's. As the pads of their
fingers connected, he absorbed that unique, unmistakable electricity
which forced him to consciously remember how to breathe. The tiny
flower-lights, even, seemed to glow a bit brighter.

Without
any of the tentativeness Kirk was used to from his Vulcan lover, he
began to move his fingers in soft, small circles. Sensations Kirk had
never felt before exploded at his nerve endings, trickled through his
veins, took hold of his skin. Spock pressed his hot palm against
Kirk's cool one, intertwined their fingers, let his fingertips
trail the back of Kirk's, over the knuckles, the cuticle, the tip
of the fingernail. Kirk let out a satisfied sigh. I never knew
hands could be quite so sensual.

And
then, in a flash of inspiration, he took Spock's hand in his. With
a smirk, he took three of Spock's fingers into his mouth, letting
his tongue flicker over the skin.

Spock's
eyes became very wide and, for a very uncharacteristic moment, he was
rendered completely speechless.

Then,
he tackled his captain to the ground.

xx

[Kirk's
brainstorm to put Spock's fingers in his mouth comes from Lanaea's
"Home." According to her, I am allowed to use this idea without
crediting, but that just doesn't feel right to me. So there you
are.]

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